Christmas Child: an absolutely heartbreaking and emotional Victorian romance Read online

  ‘Well, if it isn’t Gwen’s little beauty!’ exclaimed Terence the butcher. He stood in the courtyard that led from the alley, swaying slightly. Though he was dressed in a long coat and top hat, both had seen better days.

  Ettie had grown to like Terence. For whenever she bought meat from his shop, he knocked a penny or two off. He always addressed her as ‘Gwen’s little beauty’ and added a friendly wink. ‘So where are you off to?’ he asked congenially.

  ‘I’m looking for Gwen’s rooms,’ Ettie replied, assuming Terence had just enjoyed his tea with her.

  The butcher waved a pudgy finger at one of the terraced houses in the courtyard. ‘Just there m’dear. But – well, perhaps she’s a little busy right now.’

  ‘Oh, Gwen said I could wait,’ Ettie declared confidently.

  Terence puffed out his red cheeks and blew through his lips. ‘In that case, who am I to detain you?’ He gave Ettie a little bow and doffed his hat. ‘I’ll have some nice scrag end on Friday if you pop by, m’dear!’ he called as he entered the alley. ‘Enjoy your tea!’

  Ettie watched as he battled his way through the narrow space. Once or twice he got stuck. With a great deal of snorting and pushing, he found his way through.

  Ettie walked up to the small, shabby front door the butcher had indicated. The lace curtains in the window were not particularly clean. And the step needed a good whitening. But the door was open a few inches.

  Voices drifted from inside. She gave a rap on the brass knocker. The door squeaked open wide. And there stood Gwen. Or rather, there lay Gwen, on a battered looking brown settee, her bare legs dangling over the side. In the middle of them sprawled Gino. Naked as a baby, except for his hat with the red feather, that was dancing in time with his jerky movements.

  Chapter 13

  Ettie stared at the vision of male nakedness. She had seen the orphanage boys running around in their pants, but never naked. And Gino was certainly not a boy. His lean body and round buttocks rolled from side to side until he sat upright on the rug. Ettie gawped at the inked drawings on his chest; a pair of cherubs riding the back of an elephant whose long trunk curled downwards to his navel.

  ‘Cover yourself,’ Gwen commanded, drawing on a thin robe that moulded softly to her curves. ‘You will embarrass the poor girl.’

  ‘We were only jesting,’ Gino laughed as he drew on his trousers. ‘Just a little reverie to while away the hours. Laughter is good for the soul, non?’ He flexed his bare arms and the muscles of his abdomen where the elephant’s trunk was etched, jerked up and down.

  Gwen took Ettie’s cape and bonnet, drawing her gently across the room to a couch beneath the window. ‘The elephant is a reminder from our days with the cirque.’

  ‘The circus?’ Ettie translated.

  ‘We travelled all the world. Gino with his trained animals. And Lily and I were dancers. Have you ever been to a circus?’

  ‘No,’ replied Ettie sadly.

  ’Mon Dieu, did those nuns never let you out?’

  ‘On Sunday afternoons I could do as I pleased,’ she replied modestly. ‘But mostly I spent them with the orphans. Or teaching Michael his letters.’

  Gwen sat beside her, reaching out to a small table on which there were glasses and a bottle of green liquid. ‘Let’s drink to Michael.’

  ’But I don’t …’ protested Ettie as Gwen filled a glass and pushed it to Ettie's lips.

  ‘Just a sip, a tiny, tiny, sip. The green fairy will restore you from the shock of Gino’s penis.’

  Ettie swallowed. She gasped as the aniseed flowed fire-like into her chest.

  Gwen patted her back. ‘Just a little more.’

  The effect was to cause Ettie's cheeks to burn red and her head to whirl.

  Gwen took hold of her hands and squeezed them. ‘Welcome to the real Soho, little beauty. Now you can relax and tell us all your secrets.’

  Ettie couldn’t reply. Her voice was trapped somewhere between her throat and her mouth. She felt a kind of floating sensation that wasn’t at all unpleasant.

  Gwen bent forward and rhythmically stroked the back of her neck. ‘There, there, child. You will soon get your breath back. Now, what about this sweetheart of yours?’

  Ettie giggled. Her head was spinning. The green fairy had washed all her worries away.

  Gwen waved her hand, calling out, ‘Gino, time you were gone.’

  When Ettie looked round Gino was dressed in a crumpled white shirt tucked into his tight black trousers. The crimson feather in his hat bobbed as he fell to his knees beside her and took hold of her hand. Kissing it, he recited in a lilting voice, ‘I met a lady in the meads, full beautiful, a faery’s child. Her hair was long, her foot was light, and her eyes were wild …’ He arched his fine black eyebrows. Then springing to his feet, he bowed.

  Ettie giggled. Despite his former nakedness, she didn’t feel embarrassed. He looked so amusing with his shivering red feather.

  ‘Ah, were you in my arms dear love,’ he breathed fixing her with a solemn gaze, ‘the happiness would take my breath away. No wish could match such ecstasy!’ He pressed a kiss to Ettie's cheek. ‘Au revoir,’ he murmured and was gone.

  A young woman dressed only in her bloomers and stays appeared from another room. She was joined by a tall man wearing a bright red jacket and striped trousers. The heels of the soldier’s highly polished boots clipped the wooden boards as he crossed the floor.

  Stretching out her hand, Gwen smiled playfully. Into her palm the departing guest dropped a handful of coins. Ettie noted how swiftly they disappeared into the folds of her robe.

  ‘Lily,’ called Gwen after the man had gone, ‘sit here.’

  Ettie's head felt light and her legs even lighter. The furniture went in and out of focus. Lily curled beside her. A soft scent filled the air. Ettie thought how beautiful she was, raven-haired and olive-skinned. She whispered, ‘You are much prettier than I expected.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Ettie replied politely.

  ‘In the cirque I was known as Delilah. But now I’m just Lily.’

  Ettie felt Lily’s soft breath on her cheek. Her full lips opened as she peered into Ettie's face. ‘Do you know what Delilah did to Sampson?’

  Ettie nodded eagerly. ‘She cut off his hair and he lost his strength.’

  ‘What a mean thing to do!’ Lily exclaimed dramatically. ‘When the poor boy was fast asleep.’ She snuggled close. ‘Can you imagine the shock Gino would have if we cut off his beautiful locks?’

  ‘Better than his couilles,’ chuckled Gwen.

  The two women burst into laughter. Ettie found herself laughing too, though at what she couldn’t say. Her whole body felt as though it was floating on a cloud of happiness.

  ‘More green fairy!’ cried Lily pointing to the bottle on the table. Ettie refused but Gwen and Lily filled their glasses.

  Lily pranced around the room so fiercely that her bosoms escaped from her stays.

  ‘Tell us about your sweetheart,’ Gwen insisted. ‘Tell us about Michael.’

  Her new friends danced around her, whisking her here and there until they fell exhausted on the couch.

  ‘Michael’s an orphan too, and …’ Ettie tried to think of Michael but everything was very vague. ‘He shot Old Jim with his catapult and …’ she giggled. ‘I can’t remember any more!’

  ‘Old Jim!’ screeched Lily.

  ‘Shot with a catapult!’ exclaimed Gwen.

  Once more they were all laughing.

  Much to Ettie's delight her friends began to sing. She was entranced by their beautiful voices and the movements they made explained the words of the songs. Later they performed mimes from their former days in the cirque. Ettie thought how talented they were, though she doubted Sister Patrick would approve.

  When the sun dipped behind the tall chimney pots of the houses in the courtyard, they sat on the rug and ate slices of salt beef from Terence’s shop and soft brown dates from the market. The meal seemed to Ettie to be the most deliciou
s she had ever tasted. No wonder Terence was so happy. And Gino so reluctant to leave.

  When a tall wooden clock standing in the corner of the room chimed six, Ettie knew she must leave too.

  ‘We’ll walk with you to Silver Street,’ Lily and Gwen insisted, dressing in their skirts and blouses.

  In a haze of happiness, Ettie walked arm in arm with her new friends. Her mind was full of the wonderful events of the afternoon.

  The evening air was soft and balmy. Market traders dismantled their stalls. Late customers jostled for bargains, turning to smile as they passed. Sunbeams danced from the dirty shop windows and played on the cobbles. To Ettie, everything looked perfect.

  ‘Visit again soon,’ Gwen said as they reached Silver Street.

  Ettie smiled. ’I will.’

  ‘We love you,’ whispered Lily, kissing her cheek. ’Goodbye, sister.’

  Ettie beamed. Sister!

  Chapter 14

  Lucas was pacing in the passage, smoking a cigar amidst plumes of smoke when Ettie arrived home. His curly red hair stood on end and two scarlet patches coloured his cheeks.

  He put out his cigar in the dish. ‘Where have you been?’ he asked anxiously.

  ‘I visited a friend,’ she replied, ‘and have come home well in time to cook supper.’

  Lucas nervously fiddled with his watch chain. ‘Yes, yes, thank you. But supper won’t be necessary. As you can see, our friends have gone.’

  ‘Was lunch not to their liking?’ Ettie asked worriedly.

  Lucas just sighed. ‘Come and see.’

  Though the bottle of wine on the dining room table was empty, the food that Ettie had left was only half-eaten. There were newspapers strewn untidily and the fire in the hearth had burned out.

  ‘Oh, Ettie, I am quite put out!’ he continued pointing a trembling finger to the stairs. ‘Clara is in the bedroom. She has been quite unlike herself today. Beset by a disorder that I can’t even describe. At first, she welcomed Florence and Thomas with heartfelt greetings. But her mood swiftly changed. She hardly ate. Would not drink. I am sad to say she barely addressed our friends. Florence and Thomas took their leave, politely of course. But what a dismal failure the afternoon was!’

  Ettie quickly took off her bonnet and cape. ‘I’m very sorry to hear that, Sir.’

  ‘Please go to Clara and calm her. She will not listen to me.’

  ‘I’ll try, Sir.’

  ‘Go quickly!’ He waved her up the stairs.

  Ettie left her cape and bonnet in her bedroom then returned to the landing beneath. She heard a stifled sobbing coming from Clara’s bedroom.

  ‘Mrs Benjamin, it’s me, Ettie.’

  Almost before Ettie had finished speaking, the door flew open. Clara stood there in her pretty blue silk gown, her face smudged by tears.

  ‘Oh, so you chose to come home after deserting me!’

  Ettie took in a sharp breath. She knew her mistress was in one of her black moods. ‘Mr Benjamin said I may be of help?’

  ‘Have you stolen my remedy?’ Clara demanded.

  ‘No, Mrs Benjamin. It is in the pedestal desk.’

  ‘I have looked – and looked,’ sobbed Clara. ‘I’m at my wits’ end. If only Maggie were here. She would bring it.’

  Ettie had heard Maggie’s name repeated many times from Clara. The young maid had left unexpectedly without giving notice, so Lucas had said.

  Suddenly Clara gave a shriek. ‘I must have it! I must have it!’ Her face was so pale and gaunt that Ettie thought she might faint.

  ‘Please sit down.’ Ettie gently urged Clara to the chair. Sobbing, Clara swayed from side to side, her arms locked tight around her.

  ‘Please don’t cry,’ Ettie soothed. ‘I’ll find your remedy.’

  At this Clara fell silent. ‘Thank you, Maggie.’

  Ettie nodded. She knew Clara was sick. But when she arrived downstairs, Lucas had disappeared. Had he taken his evening stroll? Did he not care about his wife’s condition? A physician must be called at once.

  Ettie went to the pedestal desk and opened it. She lifted the blue bottle. She was not surprised to find it empty. Heart pounding, she returned to the bedroom.

  ‘Maggie!’ Clara cried. ‘Did you find it?’ Her eyes were glassy, her voice low and husky. This was the darkest mood that Ettie had ever witnessed. If only Lucas was here!

  Suddenly Clara threw herself forward. Spittle flew from her lips, her hair came loose from its pins and hung in tangles. Her nails dug painfully into Ettie's arms.

  ‘Help me, help me! You know I can’t live without my medicine. I will die, I promise you.’

  Ettie was frightened. Would Clara die without her remedy? She could feel her mistress’s eyes following her as she went to the dressing table. When Clara saw the bottle, she snatched it from Ettie's grasp and put it to her lips. Shivering and shaking, she fell to the floor.

  Lucas and Ettie waited downstairs as the physician from Soho Square attended Clara.

  ‘I shouldn’t have gone for my stroll,’ Lucas berated himself, pacing the floor again.

  ‘You came back in time, Sir,’ she reassured him, though the physician had been with Clara for a very long time.

  ‘What causes my wife to act in this way? To be friendly to Thomas and Florence, then ignore them?’ Lucas’s blue eyes were filled with confusion. ‘She has not been herself for some time. Not since we hired that wretched maid, Maggie.’

  He marched to Clara’s chair by the fire and sat down with a thump. ‘I shall give you my honest opinion about Maggie. She was a thief and liar. At first it was a china curio or silver candlestick, a brooch or a necklace that disappeared. Then I caught her red-handed one day, stuffing my finest tobacco into her pockets. I dismissed her immediately of course.’

  Ettie gazed down at the floor. ‘I’m sorry, Sir.’

  ‘It’s not your fault dear girl.’ He jumped up and went over to Ettie, taking hold of her hands. ‘I cannot tell you how relieved I was to find you. I knew at once I could trust you.’

  ‘I tried to persuade Mrs Benjamin not to take her remedy,’ Ettie burst out. ‘But that only made things worse.’

  ‘I have tried, too,’ confessed the tobacconist. He pushed his hands through his hair and sighed. ‘I cannot bear to see her upset. And so I give in.’

  There were footsteps on the stairs and Lucas went to the door. ‘How is she?’

  The old doctor, carrying his large black bag entered the room. He looked sternly at Lucas.

  ‘Your wife will sleep for a while now, but it’s not good news.’

  Lucas rocked on his heels. ‘Tell me!’

  The physician handed over a small package. ‘Administer two drops of this mixture four times a day in water.’

  ‘But what is wrong?’ demanded Lucas, staring at the parcel.

  ‘Your wife is dependent on opium.’

  ‘Opium?’ repeated Lucas, aghast. ’There must be some mistake.’

  ‘You must have observed the decline in her health? And that rather strange smell in the house?’

  ‘I have been so busy,’ Lucas babbled. ‘But forgive me. I have no excuse. What can I do to help Clara?’

  ‘This substitute will help, but I cannot guarantee an outcome. Mrs Benjamin must not be left alone. Or be allowed to go out in order to purchase more of the tincture.’

  ‘But Clara will be made a prisoner,’ Lucas objected.

  ’She is one already,’ observed the physician dourly, ‘of this odious drug.’

  Lucas could not hide his desperation. ‘My wife has not enjoyed good health it’s true. But opium, you say? How did she come upon it?’

  ‘That I cannot tell you, although …’

  ‘What is it?’

  The elderly man turned to Ettie. ‘Are you Maggie?’

  ‘No, Sir, I am her replacement.’

  ‘I see.’ He looked sternly at Lucas. ‘In her delirium, Mrs Benjamin asked for Maggie. From what I heard, I suspect your former maid had a hand in thi
s.’

  ‘Maggie!’ gasped Lucas. ‘Of course. My wife relied on her so much. Now I know why. She must have been the one to introduce that wretched drug to Clara.’

  The physician closed his bag. ‘I shall call next week, but should you want me before …’ His grey eyebrows lowered in a frown as if to warn of an impending catastrophe.

  When he had gone, Lucas pushed his hands over his face.

  ‘How could I have been so blind?’ he questioned. ‘I should have noticed Clara’s decline. But I chose to bury myself in work. Unforgivable!’

  Ettie had never seen him so forlorn. ‘Sir, shall I make you some tea?’

  ‘What? Oh yes. I suppose so.’

  She went to the kitchen and filled the kettle. Her hands were shaking as she put it on the range to boil. Opium! And Maggie had been sent by Clara to buy it.

  Ettie thought of the orphanage library books and the lurid drawings of opium dens and their degraded, destitute victims, snared in the drug’s thrall. But surely her beautiful, kind and considerate mistress could not be one of these poor souls?

  Chapter 15

  Caring for Clara meant Ettie could rarely leave her side. She knew Lucas tried his best to console his wife, but he still had a business to run. His face grew pinched with tiredness and his blue eyes wore a permanent expression of defeat.

  Ettie tried to keep Clara presentable, but her mistress had no interest in her appearance. Sometimes she refused to bathe or change her clothes and she developed a nervous, troublesome cough.

  Ettie often sat at her bedside, as a strange sickness engulfed her. The malady raged through her tiny body and left her weak. Her recovery was slow and she would sit in her chair by the fire, often falling asleep. Many nights Ettie lay awake, listening to the voices from the bedroom below as Lucas tried to console his wife.

  Several more physicians were called. She was prescribed more medicines, all of which had little effect.